


Pull My Trigger

by marbearflair



Category: Captain Hook - Fandom, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie, james hook - Fandom
Genre: F/M, OC, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-10-12 07:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20560910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marbearflair/pseuds/marbearflair
Summary: James Hook had not been excited by much in recent years. The day that his stepfather would turn over the family companies to him loomed over him like a dark cloud, his girlfriend was practically nonexistent since she decided to study abroad, and every day melted together in a gray mass of repetitious boredom. The day that Queenie swam into his life changed it all.**This work and its original characters are based on a Peter Pan rpg, and a Disney second generation rpg.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atomicblondie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicblondie/gifts).

> This work contains/will contain: alcohol use, drug use, profanity, death mentions, violence, non-explicit sex scenes, and a whole lot of drama. 
> 
> This is my first work on archive, and I hope you enjoy!

"You absolute perv," the blonde chuckled, pulling a lollipop from her lips as she leaned back against James' motorcycle. She crossed her legs at the ankles and shook her head, tutting at her friend, mildly amused with his infatuation with a high school girl. 

James had first spotted Queenie competing at a school swim meet. At that time a year ago, his girlfriend's little sister was on the team, and she had promised to put out if he let her drag him along with her. He avoided school functions as a rule when he had been there the year before, but he'd been waiting for her to give it up for a while now, so how could he refuse such an offer? After the event, however, she denied ever offering that, claiming that he had misunderstood, and he was just a sex craved maniac. Hook let it slide, because the afternoon hadn't been a complete waste. He'd seen _her_. 

With Gwendolyn back at university overseas, Hook didn't have much to do except think of the swimmer. Still, Aurora was there to remind him that waiting outside the high school on the first day back from summer holiday was a _bit_ creepy. 

"I'm not a perv, she's eighteen," James muttered, sticking a cigarette between his lips. "She was only two years behind us in school," he added, lighting up. 

"And _how exactly _do you know that?" Rory asked, brow raised, a smirk on her lips.

"I may have...*_mumble*_," James cleared his throat, avoiding Aurora's gaze while conveniently scanning the school track field. When his eyes fell back to Rory, she wore an unimpressed expression. He groaned and looked to the school gym door. "I called Mags, okay?" He managed through gritted teeth.

There was a half a moment of silence from Rory, which made Jimmy chance a look at her; this turned out to be a mistake, as she immediately burst out laughing.

"You called my grandma?" Aurora asked through peals of obnoxious laughter. Rory's grandmother loved James, and just so happened to work at the high school as secretary. 

"So what if I did, huh? Isn't it good to know she's not a minor?" He huffed, flicking his cigarette. 

"Jimmy, you prick, aren't you still dating my cousin? Don't think Gwen'd think that's good," she tested, raising a brow before laughing again.

Rory had no great affection for her cousin, but she was asking for his own sake. She had been close friends with him for far longer than he and Gwendolyn ever started dating. In truth, Rory didn't even understand why the two were even together. Gwen seemed to just like the idea of Hook, and kept him close just so no on else could have him. Gwen was pastels, bows, and dresses, and James was leather, cigarettes, and black eyes. She supposed politics played a role in their relationship; his parents owned half the big businesses in town, which made him the richest kid at school. Gwendolyn was also the eldest child of rich, high society parents that wanted her to marry up; apparently as a senior in high school she'd set her sights on him for that role. She strung him along with all sorts of promises, but as far as Rory knew, her cousin never followed through. 

"Oh come off it, I'm just--" James stopped mid-sentence as the gym door opened and students in track clothes poured out. "Do you see her?" he asked, all common sense flying out of his head. After a moment, his eyes fell on the blonde in question, and his shoulders relaxed. She was laughing alongside a girl with mermaid blue hair. 

"Ooh, that's Ronnie! Her dad owns that hookah bar--" Aurora started speculating, but Hook shushed her. 

"Shh, there she is," he muttered, before taking another drag, eyes fixed on the blonde who began stretching for a run. 

"Oh great, my best friend's a perv AND a creep."

**

Queenie sighed and pulled her hair back into a pony tail. In the locker room, girls were pulling on skimpy outfits that they hoped wouldn't be contested by the school because of the heat. Her friend Veronica was adjusting her barely butt length shorts and primping in the mirror. 

"I can't wait for fall," the blue haired beauty groaned, smoothing her tank top. "I haven't even started running and I'm melting already," she added with a huff. "I don't know how you're wearing _that_," Ronnie commented, motioning to Queenie's outfit, and the blonde gave a good natured smile. 

"I don't mind the heat," she commented, pulling her long sleeved, swim team jersey top on over her sports bra and capri leggings. "Plus, I can't afford the risk of a wardrobe write up," she added, a gentle reminder to her friend of her situation.

Queen Anne's High School was the best educational facility money could buy in the area, but it was a private school. Most of the students here were paying tuition to be there, but a few, like Queenie, had gotten in on a sports scholarship.

Veronica nodded, but didn't say much. The blue haired girl was a good person, but a little self centered. Queenie didn't mind that though; it was nice to go out and do things and not have to worry about having the attention on her at all. 

"God, I can't wait for John to pick me up after school, I'm going to shag him silly," Ronnie said brazenly as they stepped out into the sweltering heat. "On second thought, maybe we'll just go get ice cream," she groaned, putting her hand on her head. 

Queenie burst out laughing at the quick change of heart, and sighed, beginning her stretches. 

"We're meant to run in this?" Veronica asked, side eyeing their teacher. "Mancini's a sadist, I swear." 

"You're telling me," Queenie agreed, shaking her head. "Some of the swim exercises he had us do last year had me sore for a week. I just want to swim," the blonde stretched her arm across her chest and bent her legs one at a time. 

"I forgot he coached the swim team too, that just seems skeevy," Ronnie cast another disapproving look at their teacher.

"Oh Ron, stop it. He's like sixty and is married. He may be harsh, but he's not a creep." Queen protested, feeling a little protective of the old man.

"How do _you_ know? He could have a little peep hole in his office to spy on the girls in their locker room," Ronnie suggested vulgarly, miming someone looking through binoculars. Queenie made a sound of disgust before gently shoving her friend and laughing.

The two were on their second lap, when Ronnie nodded to a couple standing across the football field behind a chain link fence. 

"Who do you think they are?" She asked, huffing between every couple of words. 

Queenie, pink and sparkling with sweat looked up and shook her head, squinting. 

"Can't...see..." she replied, to which Ronnie grabbed her by the wrist and veered them both off the track and towards the fence. Queenie was too out of breath to speak, and too int he moment to stop moving. "Ron!" She managed, tugging her hand away and coming to stop.

"It's Aurora Smith!" Veronica said exasperatedly. "She comes into dad's shop all the time, let's go say hi!" Ronnie suggested, and waved to the other blonde before looking back to Queenie. "Or are you that desperate to get back to running?" She asked with an arched brow. 

Queen glanced back at the track and then sighed, catching her breath now. "Okay, but just for a minute; I can't get in trouble on the first day back," she relented, and wiped sweat from her brow with her sleeve. "Who's with her?"

**

"I'm not a creep," James grumbled, and Rory gave an amused scoff.

"Jimmy boy, this is text book creepy," she commented, and reached for his cigarette. "Gimme that," she demanded, and he held it backwards to her just out of reach, head focused away from her to the field. "You're pathetic," she sighed, leaning forward to take it. Hook stiffened at her words and turned around with a glare on his face. 

James was irritated, but mostly because of the truth in her words. More than just hanging around a school to glimpse a pretty girl, but the whole situation with Gwen. Before her, he'd never had to wait for anything or anyone. Girls usually gravitated towards him, and he had bed three girls before Gwendolyn suggested they start seeing each other exclusively. She always danced around the subject, and the two of them never got around to consummating their relationship. Every time he got close to ending things with her, she'd pull him right back in with a kiss, a hand job, and a promise that when the time was right, she'd blow his mind.

And then she told him about her study abroad opportunity, and left him for the summer and upcoming school year. The night before she left, things started getting hot and heavy, but when he came back from the bathroom with a condom she had fallen asleep. It was when she was boarding the plane the next day that he thought he might not want her at all anymore.

Rory kept him company in that regard over the summer. 'Friends with Benefits' she'd called it. He knew she hadn't been judging him earlier for lusting after another girl, but teasing him about keeping up this act that Gwen and he were in a committed relationship.

"Oh look, here they come," she commented after a drag. 

"Very funny," James muttered, pulling his helmet off the motorcycle. "Let's go get burgers," he suggested with a sigh.

"Okay, sure, one sec," Aurora handed him back his cig and stood up, walking to the fence. "Hey babes!" She greeted Veronica as the two girls arrived.

"Hi!" Ronnie chirruped, hoisting her shorts a bit and throwing her hair over her shoulder. 

James' ears perked up at the sound of another female voice, and turned round slowly. _Fuuuuuck. _His mouth hung slightly open as Queenie drew near, her cheeks pink and hair blowing in a pony tail behind her. He quickly clenched his jaw shut and gave a small smile.

"If it isn't James Hook," the blue haired girl accused in a friendly tone. He turned to her and nodded.

"Guilty," he replied, sticking his helmet back on the seat. "And you must be Veronica. And you are...?" he turned to the blonde he already knew the name and birthday of. _Did she get pinker?_ The thought of making her blush caused a little grin to tug at his lips. 

"Queenie," she said in a small voice. "Queenie Morgan," the girl added, crossing her arms.

"We can't stay," Veronica said, casting a side glance at her friend, as if something unspoken was exchanged. "But Rory, my dad got an order of mango blueberry in if you wanted to come by this week!" 

Aurora brightened at this, but James had his attention on Queenie. He was taking in her frame through her dampened top, eyes traveling down her body, and then back up to her face. He spied a slight jump in her pulse, visible above her collarbone, likely from the exercise. His gaze went up her neck, and then to her ears that were growing ever pinker. For some reason, she wouldn't look at him now, but he could see her deep gray-blue eyes going back and forth between Ronnie and Rory as the girls chatted. He chanced a glance at her slightly parted lips, and swallowed a groan, mind wandering far too far for eleven a.m. on a Tuesday.

"Is tonight good? Jimmy and I were wondering what to do tonight. You two going to be there?" Rory asked, and James became very aware of the conversation as he looked at the girls for an answer. 

Ronnie began to say yes, while Queenie started to shake her head. The blonde's eyes went a slight shade of worried, and turned to say something to Veronica, only to be talked over. 

"Around seven, yeah?" Veronica asked Rory, pulling an arm around Queenie's shoulders to turn her back towards the field. "We'll see you guys there!" And off they went away from them.

James staggered back slightly, and leaned against his bike, a pulsing pain in his groin. 

"Might want to take care of that before seven," Rory teased, pulling on the spare helmet, nodding at his crotch. "Don't want to scare her off, now do you?"


	2. Chapter Two

"What do you mean, you 'have to work'?" Veronica groaned at Queenie in the locker room. 

"What do you mean telling them we'd be there at seven?" Queenie asked through a chuckle that only vaguely masked her irritation. She had taken on more hours at the restaurant she waitressed at and had received her schedule for the month that morning. As long as her hours didn't interfere with swim practice and meets, she would work as many as them as she could.

Ronnie huffed a sigh without the slightest indication that she was responsible for her own frustration. 

"Can't someone cover for you?" She whined, pulling her school uniform on and rolling the skirt far shorter than regulation allowed. Queenie rolled her eyes as she buttoned her top.

"No, Ron, I have to work. I am still paying for the swim uniform." The blonde grimaced at the reminder, hating to have to pull the 'because I'm poor' card to get her point across. "Besides, it's too late to get coverage." This was only half true; plenty of her coworkers would be glad for extra hours, but it seemed wrong to do last minute. 

"When are you off?" Veronica asked pathetically, spritzing perfume on her neck and chest. 

"Ten," Queenie stated miserably. Even if she could get out earlier, the last thing she'd feel like doing would be to dress up and go to that hookah bar. The clouds of smoke always made her sneeze. 

"Oh fine. James will be disappointed though," Ronnie commented casually, shaking out her blue locks. Queenie perked up a bit at this. That guy looked so cool leaning against the bike, with eyes like sea foam, and a totally trim frame. She had hardly been able to look him in the eyes when they met. 

"What makes you say that?" She asked, trying to keep cool. 

"Oh babes, he had you down to your knickers by the time we left," Ronnie giggled, tying her laces and picking up her bag. Queenie went bubble gum pink. _Me??_ "C'mon, Mr. Halloway is wearing the really tight trousers today."

**

James tapped his fingers on the side of the hookah and scanned the room. He and Aurora had gotten to _The Caterpillar Lounge_ a few minutes before seven, and now he was alone because she'd gone to the loo. It was about seven thirty, and Hook's temper was beginning to boil. 

"Why say seven if you don't mean seven?" He grumbled as Rory sat down and picked up the hose to smoke. He never really cared for this sort of thing; flavored tobacco was rubbish in his opinion. 

"Relax Jimmy, they'll be here," Rory said dismissively, taking a long drag of blueberry mango. 

A moment later, in fact, Veronica strutted in, jangling as she walked owing to the amount of long earrings and bangles she wore. James peered around her, but instead of Queenie, she had three younger girls with her. He must have been frowning, because Aurora looked from him to Ronnie before asking.

"Where's your friend" She asked, getting up and giving Ronnie a quick hug. 

"She couldn't make it," she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "This is Arabella, Delia, and Rose. First timers," she grinned, introducing the girls. One looked eager, another looked a bit dotty, and the third looked a touch melancholic. James gave a collective nod to them and looked away, trying very poorly not to look mad. 

The evening unfolded with lots of girlish giggling, snapchat selfies, and plans for drinks after. Aurora generously offered James to buy them some alcohol, but he said he wouldn't be able to join them in drinking. The five didn't mind at all, and he dropped them all off at Rory's with a box of pink wine and an assortment of nips. 

Opting to leave his car at Smith's, James walked down the road and into _Mulligan's Pub, _one of the many businesses his father had his hands in. The barman brought over a neat scotch before Hook even sat down, and James gave a grateful smile. Everything was so annoying to him lately. Gwen hadn't been answering his calls, and every text he sent was met with '_I miss you, but I've got to dash! Call you later!_' or '_Just finishing up some homework, text soon! xx'_ or some variation of the two; these were never followed up with, however, leaving James more agitated than hurt.

After four drinks, James paid his tab and sauntered out into the night. At nine thirty most places were shut, except for a corner drug store and a fifties themed diner. Wandering into the latter, Hook seated himself a sigh and picked up a menu. 

**

Queenie wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand before dunking them into the soapy water. Of course the dishwasher conked out in the last hour of her shift. She just had finished the last of the dishes in time to hear that godawful bell of the door tinkle, and she groaned aloud. 

Turning around, she started to ask Charlie, the other closing waitress if she could take it, only to see her wearing her jacket already and reaching for her time card.

"Oh Queenie, can you please take it? I have to smooth things over with Peter," she asked with a pleading look on her face.

If it had been anyone else, Queenie might have said no, but she knew Charlie, and knew that she would've stayed if Queenie had asked. 

"Alright. Good luck," Queenie gave a weak smile. She'd met Peter a few times, and often wondered why anyone liked him. He seemed like a mini gangster the way he treated his friends. 

After amping herself up, Queenie set out to take the last order of the night. If she had looked up, she might have recognized James simply by the back of his head, however, she kept her eyes cast down and turned in front of his table, pen to notepad.

"Anything to drink?" She asked, trying to use her best customer service voice.

"Ah yes, I'll have a coffee with--" the voice broke off, and Queenie looked down.

Suddenly flushed, she shifted on her feet and cleared her throat.

"Cream and sugar?" She asked, cursing her face for the shade of pink it was turning. 

"Just white," he murmured, and then grinned. _Christ._ "Hey, I missed you tonight," he told her brazenly, and she gave an apologetic chuckle, clasping her notepad and pen together on her thighs. 

"Yeah, Ronnie likes to plan in the moment," the blonde chuckled. "Good time, though?" She asked conversationally.

"Eh," he muttered, tucking his hands into his jean pockets as he leaned back against the booth. "S'alright. Veronica brought some of her friends in. Had been looking forward to seeing you though."

For a moment, she wondered if he'd said what she thought he did. He said it so casually that it almost seemed like an afterthought. 

"Oh, sorry," she managed, squirming slightly where she stood. "Here I am," she gave a nervous laugh, throwing her hands up in a shrug. At this he laughed, and she felt the tension slowly slip away. "Just the coffee then?"

**

Rain pattered outside the diner, and the dimmed lights cast from the kitchen illuminated the shadows of two near strangers in the window. It was a rather romantic picture they painted from the outside, sharing grins and head tilting laughter.

After the other stragglers had left, Hook had convinced Queenie to flip the closed sign, and share his chips with him.

"It's nearly midnight," Queenie sighed, still, she made no movement to leave. James glanced at his wrist watch and nodded.

"Tis. I know I shouldn't keep you, what with school in the morning..." he trailed off, and immediately she chimed in.

"No, it's okay. This is nice. Besides, first class is chemistry. I won't understand it with more sleep anyway," she chuckled, and James nodded with a small laugh. Tapping his mug of cold coffee, he tilted his head.

"Ms. Thompson still teaching?" He asked, thinking of the unusually cruel science teacher.

"Ah yes! I have her this term. Is she as awful as everyone says? She seemed sweet," Queenie inquired. 

James tried to nod, but then shook his head violently and pressed his brow to his folded hands on the table.

"She's _terrible,_" he groaned, sitting upright. "Don't let your guard down with that one. I thought she'd retired after our class, but I guess she's still kicking. And man can she kick," Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Any tips for dealing with her?" Queenie asked with a sigh, feeling a little disheartened.

"Well first off, don't be a boy. She hates boys, so you're better off already. And she likes when you ask questions; but only questions she can answer." Queenie raised a finger with quizzical look on her brow, and then shook her head with a chuckle. "What is it?"

"What questions does she know the answer to?" The blonde asked, raising her brows.

"Oh, I don't know. She _hated _me!" They both laughed at this, and then sighed in unison. She glanced over her shoulder back at the kitchen, and groaned. 

"I should finish up, I guess," she said, standing and taking the empty chip plate. James slid out of the booth after her, coffee mug in hand.

"This thing work?" James called to her as she disappeared into the kitchen. She popped her head out a moment to see him running a hand over the jukebox.

"Yeah, just don't play Elvis; he's the most played artist in here," she replied, heading into the kitchen. Queenie had been so exhausted two hours ago, but with him, she felt as though she could stay up for days just talking with him. 

When she returned to the floor, James punched in a song and turned slowly as the opening notes of _Mr. Brightside_ by The Killers pealed from the speakers, arms raised in relish.

"Ahh, good choice!" She enthusiastically approved, pushing the rag broom across the floor. Queenie grinned as James walked across the tiled floor, nodding along with the music.

The two simultaneously began singing with Brandon Flowers, and Hook moved behind the counter where Queenie was sweeping. His hand wrapped around hers which held the broom, and puleld the handle between them as they both belted out in unison "_Cause I'm Mr. Brightside!_" into it, as though it were a microphone. The pair danced around the diner, sweeping very poorly.

When the song ended, James jumped the counter, knocking over a stool as he went, and plunked a few more quarters into the jukebox. He put the chair right just as _I Can't Help Myself _by The Four Tops began to play.

Hook took Queenie into his arms again, this time taking the broom from her and dropping it to the floor. She threw her head back and laughed, a pink rose blooming across her face at how close he was holding her. James couldn't remember the last time, if ever, that he'd felt so childish and carefree. All he knew, was that if he could be responsible for making her laugh like this forever, he would. 


	3. Chapter Three

The heat was unrelenting to the fall and, for some sadistic reason he was sure, James' stepfather kept coming up with reasons to make him leave the cool, air conditioned office. It was clear to anyone close to them, that Edward Teach wasn't entirely fond of James, and the news that he would someday be leaving his company to the boy had come as a shock to all. For now, it seemed, Teach was just keeping James around as an errand boy.

Hook was spending more time in the office, per his mother's request, to get a feel for office work. So far, all he had done was fetch coffee, make copies of documents, and redirect the occasional phone call. It was noontime when Edward gave James the _very_ important mission of picking up lunch for the office. Hook had complied, but as soon as he was out in the heat again, he resolved to make them all wait a little longer for their meal.

The roar of his motorcycle starting up disturbed a few pigeons, and he quickly pealed away from the sidewalk. The wind did nothing to cool him down as it beat against his helmet and bike jacket. His mind was wandering to the feeling of holding Queenie against him when they'd danced together at the diner last week; this made him even warmer, not to mention adding discomfort to the ride. Hook had to sound off his list of sobering things to get his mind off of her.

As he pulled into the back parking lot of the Ruby Tuesdays restaurant, he removed his helmet and tilted his head back, breathing heavily as he tried to hold it down.

"Easy there, Jimmy, you look like you might explode," Aurora's amused voice sounded from behind the dumpster. She took a final drag from her cigarette, and stubbed it out against the metal bin. "You okay?" She asked, standing up and wiping her hands on her black apron.

"Ah yeah, just hot," he replied, unzipping his jacket to reveal a damp, blue button down. "Order ready?" Hook asked as he pecked his friend on her cheek.

"Almost. Can't believe your dad's making an office monkey out of you," she mused with a laugh.

"Step dad," James corrected, and then sighed. "Really? I can. He hates me working there."

"Then why are you?" She asked with a groan, but they both knew why. His mother had asked him to. And for all the reasons he and Edward Teach were different, they had one thing in common: they couldn't say no to Molly. "Just bring this back and say you have to take me to a doctor's appointment." She suggested, and James gave a concerned look.

"You have to go to the doctor? Are you okay, Rory?" The blonde was already patting the air with both hands midway through his questions.

"No, I went this morning. Thought I was catching a bug, but I'm fine," she assured him. "Just an excuse to get you out sooner."

Hook sighed, half in relief that she was okay, and half as he considered the possible ramifications.

"You know what, fuck it. I'll do it. When are you off, anyway?" He asked, following her through the kitchen door.

"About an hour," was her reply. "Pick me up?" She asked, raising her brows, before giving a grin. "We should go to the pier. Ferris Wheel stops running the end of the month."

"Sure, why not?" Hook grinned, and the two strolled in to see if the order was ready.

**

Queenie tapped her pencil against her notebook full of chem review, and sighed. Veronica was supposed to be in this study hall with her, but instead she was sat alone with her thoughts.

_One week._ It had been a whole week since she'd danced with James Hook. Seven days since he nearly kissed her before saying he'd see her around. Since she wrote her number on his palm in permanent ink so he wouldn't forget to call. Since the last time she'd heard from him.

Queenie pulled out her phone and tapped out a text to Veronica.

Q: _where are you??_

V: _just saying goodbye to john, brt!_

V: _gotta get that _🍆_before he leaves for cali_😭

Q: _aren't you in school??_

V: _yeah, broom closet is v small_

V: _john, not so much_😜

Before Queenie had a second to think of a response to that, the sapphire haired girl whirled into the study room, receiving a glare from the teacher.

"Sorry! Bit of a dizzy spell," she explained to the teacher, whose expression turned from annoyed to concerned. "Nothing to worry about! Nurse said it was just a vitamin D deficiency," Ronnie added, and plopped down next to Queenie with a grin.

"Subtle," Queenie chuckled quietly, and turned in her desk to Ronnie. "You're mad," she added, shaking her head with a smirk.

"I know, the custodian almost caught us," Veronica giggled. "Oh!" her expression quickly turned somber. "I have bad news. Well, somewhat bad news," she corrected, before opening her backpack and retrieving her English workbook. Queenie loved Veronica to death, but she hated the way she dragged out dramatic pauses.

"Well...?" Queenie pressed impatiently as Ronnie uncapped a pen.

"He has a girlfriend."

Queenie knew immediately who Ron was talking about, as _he_ had been the subject of most of their conversations for the last week. Her heart sank.

"W-what? How'd you find that out?" She asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling too much.

"Aurora Smith told me. Which is probably why he hasn't called you," she explained. _Well, obviously!!_

"How is that _somewhat_ bad? That's _very_ bad," Queenie groaned, sinking down in her seat and leaning her head over the back of her chair.

"Well that's the thing. Ever since he met you, he keeps saying he wants to end things with her. But don't tell anyone, I promised her I wouldn't tell." Ronnie warned, and Queenie perked up only the slightest bit.

"Why would she tell you that?" The blonde asked, still feeling quite disheartened.

"Because he's obviously miserable without you. Rory's his best friend; she doesn't want to see him miss a chance at happiness!" Queenie rolled her eyes at this. Part of her didn't believe it was true, while the other part of her felt a pang of jealousy.

_I want to be his best friend._

**

Aurora let out a final moan and rolled off of Hook, falling onto her back with a sigh. The two of them were damp, pleasantly sore, and both thinking of other people.

"Thanks Ror," James managed between heavy breaths.

"Thanks yourself," Aurora giggled, and burrowed down into the silk sheets.

After an afternoon of roller coasters, fair food, and losing a lot of money on rigged carnival games, the pair tumbled into James' bed without a second thought. This had been the routine for them the last few years, and they'd agreed to always take care of each other in that regard. Today, however, James actually felt a little guilty, and glanced at his phone on the nightstand.

"Oh, just call her," Aurora muttered, closing her eyes.

"Who?" James asked, actually wondering who she thought he should talk to first: his prospective ex, or the girl he couldn't stop thinking about for longer than five minutes.

"Listen, I'm not going to figure this out for you. Call the one you want. Get the break up done with, or go ask for a date. I don't care," Rory replied, and if he didn't know that she _did_ care, Jimmy might have thought she was being too harsh.

"Right, I'll call Queenie, and you call Sam," he responded, and immediately felt sorry. She stiffened only the slightest bit, before swinging her legs over the side of the bed and padding over to her pile of discarded clothes.

"Fine, I will. We'll call together," she stated, pulling her phone out, along with her smokes and lighter. "In a minute," she added, throwing James a little grin over her bare shoulder. The blonde pulled his white t-shirt over her naked frame, and pulled open the sliding door to the balcony. Hook sighed and pulled on his boxers, following her out into the cool night air.

**

"Friday?" Queenie asked, heart racing. The blonde was sat across from her blue friend, a milkshake in front of each of them. Veronica's eyes popped open wide as she sucked up her drink from a straw, and patted the table with her palms. Queenie hushed her, and plugged one ear with her finger to hear James better in the buzzing restaurant.

"Yeah, I'm around Friday night. I'm actually off," she gave a nervous chuckle, making a mental note to bring up the last few times she'd covered for Charlie and ask her to do the same for her. "Yes, seven. Sounds good! See you there!" The call ended and she practically threw her phone onto the table with a screech.

"Oh my god, he asked you out??" Veronica bounced so hard in her seat that she smacked her knees on the underside of the table. "What are you going to do? Where are you going to go? Oh!" Ronnie gasped. "What are you going to _wear_?"

Queenie's cheeks were pink, and her face hurt from how hard she was grinning.

"He wants to take me dancing! There's a ballroom event thing on the pier. And then he's making reservations at Triton's for nine!" The blonde pressed her palms to her cheeks as Ronnie cheered.

"Aww, that sounds like so much fun! I'm so excited for you, Queen! Can we go dress shopping? Triton's is fancy dress, isn't it? Don't let you in without a tie and jacket, right?" Queenie rolled her eyes and laughed. Leave it to Ronnie to turn it into a shopping event.

"I think so. And I have a little bit saved; was thinking of getting that silver, shimmery, strappy dress at Tessa's if it's still there." Queenie mused, already pairing it with the pearly pumps her mom gave her. "I hope it's still there," she tapped her fingers on her milkshake glass and wriggled in her seat. That was the problem with Tessa's Thrift Store; things came and went in there so fast, and it was rarer than rare that she had more than one of anything.

"Ooh, I love Tessa's! She always gets the coolest clothes in there," Veronica's excitement for Queenie added to her own, and the two spent the rest of the evening discussing how they imagined the date would go.


	4. Chapter Four

All manner of curses filled the elevator to the penthouse as James impatiently waited to reach the apartment. It was nearly six o'clock, and he still had to shower and get ready before he could go meet Queenie at the pier. 

For the last day and a half since he'd asked her on a date, James had been trying to reach Gwen to break things off. A part of him was relieved each time his calls went to voicemail, while another part fed his anxiety about the whole ordeal. 

James practically flew out of the elevator and past Mr. Bonnet, one of his father's butlers, who was sorting mail in the kitchen.

"Good evening, Master James," the man's voice drawled as Hook had one foot in the hall. He backtracked as it sounded as though Bonnet had something to say to him. He was in a rush, but he really didn't need another lecture from his stepfather about respect. 

"Hello, Bonnet, how are you?" Hook asked, glancing at the hall clock. 

"Oh fine, fine, thank you for asking. A package arrived for you earlier. I stuck it on your bed," the old man smiled in a way that Hook couldn't quite read. 

"Thanks. I'm just going to shower and then be on my way out, but I'll check it out before I go. Any idea who it's from?" He asked, unbuttoning his shirt in the kitchen to speed up the shower process. 

"Eh, I think it came in from London," Bonnet replied casually, and went back to sorting. "Goodnight, Master James," the gentleman stated, ending the conversation.

_London._ James hesitated for just a moment before heading to the shower. The only people he knew in London were a couple childhood friends whose parents had worked for Edward, and Gwen. Tadhg and Owen hadn't talked to him years, so that ruled them out. _Must be something from Gwen,_ he thought to himself. The idea of her sending a gift made him feel even worse, and he groaned about it internally in the shower. Whatever it was, he decided as he shut the water off, he'd send it back. 

Feet slapping against the wood floor to his room, James brushed his teeth in his towel, the outfit he was going to wear already in his mind. He looked down at his phone to see he had a snap from Queenie, and he opened it as he walked into his room. 

He had only a moment to take in a glimpse of the sparkly number that clung to a hanger and was hanging from what he assumed was Queenie's closet door, and read the text across it which said "_think this is okay for Triton's?_" when a voice startled him. 

"Hey, handsome."

"G-Gwen?"

**

Queenie lay on her stomach atop her sister, Seraphina's bed. She blew on her drying, silver nail polish, and tapped her phone screen. 

"Eeep, he opened it!" She chirped, and glanced over at Sera, who was scrolling through Pinterest on her laptop. The dark haired brunette raised her brows at Queenie, showing interest. 

"Ooh, let me know if he answers!" She grinned, turning back to her computer. "You look great in that dress, just wait until he sees it on you." Her sister hummed, scrolling through Autumn activity ideas for kids. "You can borrow my starfish necklace if you want; it's just dying to be worn at a place called _Triton's_," she giggled.

"Alright, thanks!" Queenie replied with a giddy laugh. She needed to get her mind off the date; it was making her more and more nervous the closer it got. "Any ideas on what you're going to do with Robbie and Johnny?" She asked, referring to their nephews that Sera had offered to babysit for the weekend. 

"I'm trying to find an orchard for apple picking. Might take them to see that new superhero movie; load them up with candy and apple pie and send them back home to Caterina." The two laughed at this. One of their older sisters had married young, and started popping out kids left and right. Their other older sister, Poppy, was taking the three younger ones so Cat and her husband could get away for a couple of nights. 

"Good plan. Wouldn't want them to have it too easy and get any ideas for more kids," Queenie giggled, shaking her head. "Not that I don't love them, but five kids in eight years..." 

"It's a lot," Seraphina quickly agreed, and tittered a laugh. "Every time I start to think I want a baby, I offer to babysit Arya, and then I'm set straight again." They both laughed out loud at that; Arya was their spirited niece, who once decorated the entire kitchen with split pea soup from her highchair. Three years later, and Queenie was _still _finding suspicious stains on the cabinets. 

"You should get dressed, it's half past six," Sera suggested, and Queenie stood up so fast she felt dizzy. "I can drop you off at the pier if you want. I have to head that way to get the boys."

Queenie nodded in gratitude; she didn't know how quick she'd make it there on her own with her legs feeling like jello. 

**

"Are you so surprised?" Gwen asked, crossing the room to James with a pleased look on her face. He set his toothbrush on his dresser and spat his toothbrush in the bin. 

"Y-yeah, you totally got me," he chuckled nervously, suddenly feeling much like the canary that the cat had caught. 

Gwen closed the distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. This in itself was another shock to James. Rarely did she initiate physical touch, and rarer still was it likely to happen with just a thin terrycloth towel between them. She pulled back and looked into his surprised mug, before planting a kiss on his lips. 

"Mm, minty," she grinned, wiping a smudge of paste from the corner of his mouth. "Do try to look happier; I didn't come all this way for you to just frown at me," she giggled, and he shook his head, pulling out a small smile.

"I guess I'm in shock," Hook chuckled, holding her out at arm's length. "You look great," he smiled as calmly as he could. "But what are you doing here?" He managed to get out the million dollar question, letting go of her, worried that if he kept touching her, he'd lose his nerve. 

"London was boring me..." she started, but then looked down at her hands. "Actually, James," Gwen sighed, fidgeting with a ring on her index finger. "I needed to come see you," she finally got out, looking up at him with wet eyes. "We never talk, and I never get to see you," she added. "That's not normal for a couple."

_Is this it? Did she come all this way to break up? Can it really be this simple?_

"And that's on me. In taking this opportunity, I never considered what it might do to us. It's drove a wedge between us, and I'm sorry," she had yet to let a single tear fall, but her eyes continued to well up. "But it's given me time to think. _Really _think. About what I want," she said, a slight change in h. "About _who_ I want," she continued, stepping closer, hands falling to either side of his waist. "I want _you_ James. I don't want to study English Literature thousands of miles away, or travel Europe alone. I want you to be there with me." 

Hook's mouth hung slightly open. Gwen talked A LOT. She talked about books, fashion, and charity work. She yammered on constantly about her environmentally friendly changes she was making as an individual; she talked about fad diets, makeup, and rising stars. But she never talked to him like _this_. This felt raw and open and real. But it reminded _him _of what _he_ wanted; _who _he wanted. 

"I guess what I'm trying to say is..."

_Now. Tell her now. Break it off NOW._

"I want you. I want every part of you, and I'm ready. Truly this time. God, take me, James," the brunette pressed her hand against his midriff, slowly moving down towards his towel.

Mind realing by what she was offering, skin tingling by the shocking coolness of her palms on his flesh, Hook did the only thing he could think of, and let his body react to her touch. He pulled her in and kissed her hard, pressing his body against hers. 

_Maybe this is the right thing, _he thought as his tongue parted her lips. _Maybe things are starting to come together._

He halted the kissing and looked down at her; her eyes wore a heavy lidded look, and her lips were already swollen by their lip lock. 

"I have plans tonight," he told her breathily, feeling like six different kinds of asshole. Gwen looked up at him bemused, a glint of mischief in her eye.

"Can't you cancel?" She asked, gently palming him against his towel. He arched his head back and groaned, leaning in to her touch. Thoughts whizzed by in his head; having had to beg Sebastian for a table on a Friday night, the tickets he'd bought for the dance event, the dress Queenie had snapped him. But then here was Gwendolyn; she _literally _had him in the palm of her hand.

"Give me two minutes," he breathed, kissed her once more, and slipped out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to make a phone call.

**

Queenie poked at her melting ice cream sundae as she sat across from Robb and Jon. Seraphina sipped on a coke and watched her sister carefully. The blonde felt as thought Sera saw her as some sort of delicate thing that would break at any moment.

"Are you going to eat that?" Robb asked, pointing at the cherry that was sinking into her whipped cream. Queen looked up, his words breaking up her daze, and she scooped out the ruby red berry to plop on top of his half eaten sundae.

"Something came up? Are you sure that's all he said?" Seraphina finally smashed the pregnant silence, dropping her straw into her glass.

Queenie glared at Sera, and then shrugged.

"Yeah." Was her simple, somber reply.

"...Well did he say he'd reschedule with you?"

"No."

"Well will you?"

"I don't know."

"He can't just--"

Queenie slammed her hands down on the table, causing a few other _Friendly's _ guests to glance over.

"Please," she mumbled, a tear escaping. "Just leave it," Queenie sighed, returning to the stirring of her melted dessert. She kept replaying the thirty second phone call in her head, she didn't need to rehash it aloud in front of her nephews. Sera reached an arm around Queenie's shoulders and pulled her closer. The simple action made her tension ease, and Queen leaned into her touch. "This fucking sucks," she muttered, and then looked up quickly to see Jon and Robb, eight and seven, giggling at each other. "Don't tell mommy I said that. She'd be pissed," she winced, chancing a glance at Sera, who was nodding. 

"That's your mom's word, she gets mad if she hears of anyone else using it," she told the boys, who just laughed some more. "Who wants to build a pillow fort when we get home? We could watch a movie and sleep in the living room all together," she suggested. The little ones looked at each other in excitement and nodded at their aunties. Jon giggled and nudged Robb with his elbow. 

"Yeah. Sounds _fucking _awesome."

Queenie burst out laughing, and Seraphina chucked an empty straw wrapper at him, and the four of them dissolved into giggles, and threats, and promises. It was then that she actually felt like it might be okay after all.


	5. Chapter Five

There was a certain type of serenity to be found underwater. Any noises above the surface were muffled, sometimes soundless. In the beginning, holding one's breath is a game; to see how long you can fight the water to stay out of your lungs, and after a time, it almost feels as though you might win. But the fire growing inside is meant to be doused; you cannot drop a lantern into the ocean and expect it to keep burning. Similarly, the pain in your lungs becomes too much, and instinctively, you would have to climb to the surface, as the alternative is drowning. But sometimes, if a person is focused on a pain that is bigger than that of drowning, they can hold their breath for long stretches of time.

Queenie broke through the skin of the school pool and gasped, gripping the side of the wall. Veronica let out her own sigh of relief, and clicked the stop watch. 

"Seven minutes, forty seconds. You are insane," she laughed, logging Queenie's new record in little notebook. The blonde gave a half smile and smoothed her hair back with both hands.

"Or maybe I'm a mermaid," she chuckled, kicking back to float, arms outstretched at her sides. Underwater was her preferred place to think, and it was were she found peace amidst chaos. 

"You know, I wouldn't even be surprised if you were," the blue haired girl laughed, setting the journal down. "How do you feel?" 

Queenie had to think on it for a moment. It made her feel vulnerable, but safe; weak, but strong; it made her feel like she could do just about anything.

"Alive," she eventually went with, and pulled herself up and out of the water. Practice had finished up a half an hour ago, but sometimes she just couldn't bring herself to leave the water. What she wouldn't give for an indoor pool at her own house. 

"Good," Ronnie grinned. "'Cause I've got big plans for us tonight, which require you to be lively."

"Oh really? And what are these 'big plans' of yours?" Queenie asked, before wringing out her hair onto Ronnie's lap. The blue one screeched and laughed, pulling away from the cold water on her bare thigh. 

"There's a party we're going to crash," she grinned again, a bit devilishly this time.

She could already guess which party her friend was referring to, and she shook her head, an action which made Veronica take Queen's face in both hands to stop the unspoken answer. 

"Yes, we have to go! Everybody who's anybody is going to go!" Queenie pulled away from her grip with a laugh. "C'mon, I need my best friend with me," she pleaded.

"Veronica, I'm not going to some stupid Welcome Homeparty for _her_. Aside from the fact that I actually believed her boyfriend was leaving her for me, I don't even know her. It would be awkward to show up uninvited. It'd just be stupid. No." The high of breaking her personal record was quickly dwindling as she was forced to think about James Hook and his socialite girlfriend. 

"I didn't want to do it," Ronnie sighed, shaking her head. "But I'm pulling the 'you owe me one' card." She tutted, as though she really disliked having that card in her back pocket. Queenie arched a brow, and tried to read her friend's features to see if she was kidding or not.

"Really? Now? You want to cash it in _now_? For _this_?" Queen asked in disbelief. 

Years ago, when Ronnie and Queenie were twelve, the latter found herself in horrible trouble. Only once, and never again due to the horrible repercussions, did Queenie take something that didn't belong to her. The police got involved, and an innocent almost went to jail because of Queen's action. Veronica somehow worked her magic, played it off as some practical joke, and replaced what was stolen. Queenie had promised to owe her friend something, _anything _that she wanted, and whenever it was that she chose to use it. 

"Yes, I'm cashing it in now. You're going to put on a hot outfit, you're going to dance your heart out, and we're going to drink vodka cranberries until three a.m. _And_, you're going to enjoy it, okay?" Ronnie looked at her with such a serious face, that Queenie knew there was no getting out of it without completely losing the trust and respect of her best friend. She tried to maintain eye contact, as if it might make Ronnie back down, but she relented, sighing and looking away. 

"Fine." Was all she said, and stood to her feet. She couldn't even set any stipulations on what the evening would entail, because this was payment for a stupid mistake that Ronnie had fixed for her. 

"Love ya, babes!" Ronnie called from the poolside as Queenie reached the locker room. The blonde turned to say something snarky, but Ronnie was smiling so bright, excitement practically beaming from her pores, that Queenie couldn't bring herself to.

"Iloveyoutoo," she replied very quickly, fighting a smile, and went to get changed.

**

"Black or gold tonight?" Gwendolyn asked, swiping back and forth between two dress options on her phone.

James was laid back on the bed, tracing small circles on her bare back, as she was sat upright, facing away from him. The last two weeks had gone by in a sort of haze. It seemed that his every waking moment was spent with Gwen, and any time things got rocky or uncomfortable, she'd drag him to bed, and after some manner of sex, the argument or disagreement would be tucked away.

"Yeah, sure," he breathed out, drawing an interweaving line between a few, soft brown freckles. 

"James, are you even listening? I can't decide. Be helpful please," Gwen stated with an irritated sigh, and she reached back to smack his hand away sharply. If she had been looking at him, she would've been frightened by his near murderous expression at being hit. 

"The gold one. The black one makes you look trashy. Gold suits you better," he answered harshly, reaching for his phone. Gwen turned around with an expression of shocked indignation. 

"Take that back! I do not look trashy in that dress!" She pouted, looking back at her phone. 

"Fine, taken back," he sighed, scrolling through Instagram. "Wear the black one then. The gold washes you out." This time, she turned around with a look of fiery anger, but his smirk calmed her mildly.

"James Hook, you absolute prick," she dropped her phone on the bed and lay on top of him, the sheet the only bit of fabric between them. "Trashy in black, washed out in gold. What would you have me wear?" She asked in amused curiosity.

"Oh, I don't know," he replied, glancing out the corner of his eye. "This is nice," he grinned a dastardly smile, giving her bum a pat. She rolled her eyes and climbed off of him, retrieving her phone. 

"Maybe red," she started up again, and he pushed his head into his pillow with a groan. "I'm going to go shopping with Nana, you're no help at all," she muttered, stepping into her dress she'd worn the night before, and pulling it up over her small frame. "Wear your red button up tonight, okay?" She told him firmly, and gathered up her purse and shoes. 

Before he could say anything, Gwendolyn was on the phone with her nanny. Seemed silly for a twenty one year old to still have a nursemaid, but Gwen turned to her for everything from advice to approval. 

Jimmy listened as her voice got quieter and quieter, and disappeared entirely in the penthouse elevator. _Oh, so she's just gone now. Cool. Bye to you too, babe._ James shook it off and scrolled through Instagram stories for a bit, trying not to think too much about this daft party Gwen's parents were throwing for her. He clicked through a few of them, but held down to pause Veronica Chrysalis' story. It was a picture of Queenie grinning goofily at the camera, holding up a stopwatch that read seven minutes, forty seconds. He raised his brows, impressed. His eyes took in her wet hair that hung over her shoulders, falling against her one piece bathing suit. James felt that sensation once more that he'd utterly fucked things up. He shook the thought from his mind; he'd made his choice, even if it was only for short term satisfaction.

James' problem was his curiosity for the forbidden. For years, Gwen had put off doing anything sexual, and then she offered it up just as he'd lost all desire for her. Even when he didn't want her anymore, the offer was too rare and enticing to pass up. As with a lot of things that are bad for you, (binge watching a show until 3 a.m. the night before a a big test; going for that fourth brownie; drinking the _whole_ bottle), you often regret doing them.

Gwendolyn was a _big_ regret. 

However, while he did many things he regretted, he tried to be honorable. He couldn't bring himself to break up with her right after they hooked up, and he couldn't end things with her now with her return debut party. And just yesterday she was talking about what they'd dress up as for Halloween. He felt rather trapped. James let go of the Instagram story, and it moved on to the next, with a bathroom mirror selfie of Veronica and Queenie posing against the sink. 

The last photo in the set was posted just five minutes ago, starring Aurora with an arm around Veronica's neck, the blonde kissing the blue haired girl's sidebrain. 

"What the fuck?" he asked no one in particular, a frown plastered on his face. He hadn't really spoken with Rory since Gwen had returned. He knew she was probably judging him for staying with her cousin, and before seeing the picture of the two girls together, he'd been too ashamed to talk to her. 

Curiosity pushed his buttons once more. 

**

"Jamesy, how are ya?" Aurora's musical voice crooned into her phone, and Queenie fought the urge to look up immediately. 

The three girls were sat by a fountain in the middle of the mall. Ronnie had insisted on getting new dresses, and they bumped into Rory as she was leaving _Victoria's Secret _with a couple pink bags in tow. Queenie was secretly pleased to be dress shopping, after having returned the shimmery dress to _Tessa's_. It hurt too much to see it hanging in her closet, and $130 was too much to spend on a dress she'd never put on again. 

She was trying not to eavesdrop, but Ronnie discreetly elbowed her and nodded to Rory. The sapphire haired girl made herself look rather involved with her phone, but Queenie knew she was listening in too. 

"Yeah, you could say it's been too long, you dick," she laughed into the phone. "What do you want, anyway? Shouldn't you be getting ready for dear old Wendy's party?" She asked in amusement, and then paused before sighing. "Of course I'm going, she's my cousin after all." Ror said, and then glanced at Ronnie and Queen before feigning offense. "No, I did _not_ decide to go after I saw the menu of lobster, king crab, and steak! I am _appalled_ that you would even suggest that I'm just going for the free food!" She replied, before covering the microphone and whispering to the girls. "_Totally just going for the free food_," she revealed to them, and Queenie laughed out loud, relaxing a bit to know Rory didn't mind if they heard.

She decided right then that she loved Rory.

"Just some friends," Rory replied into the phone, and Queenie blushed, wondering if he had heard her. "Why does it matter? You going to come join us?" Queen looked up in horror to Ronnie, shaking her head slightly. Rory must've seen, because she added: "'Cause you can't anyway, you're not invited. Girl's day." and winked at the blonde. "yeah, yeah, see you tonight bud." Ending the call, she turned to them and raised her brows. "Alright, girls. Let's go shopping!" 

**

Hook thumped his head back against the wall, sighing as the call ended. He _definitely _heard Queenie's laugh. A vain and selfish part of him was irritated that she could be laughing at anyone other than him. How desperately he wished to be back in that diner, drawing laughter from her with impersonations, jokes, and bad dancing. He'd do it all differently if he had the chance; call her the next day--no, within the hour that they'd parted; he'd break up with Gwen that night too, if only he hadn't played the coward instead. 

James got out of bed and scratched his leg as he padded into the bathroom. There were so many things he would change about his life, if he could just go back. He'd ignore that little shit Peter and his gang of miscreants that liked to taunt him, instead of getting into trouble over them. He'd go back and never agree to date Gwen, who used to babysit the aforementioned little shit. He'd go back and beat up his biological dad, instead of hiding in a closet the night he...

He had to stop himself from going back into that little dark room in his head. It was too early in the day to go there. 

Luckily, before he had to work his way to lighter thoughts on his own, his phone rang. He finished peeing quickly, and answered the phone, pressing the device between his ear and shoulder as he washed his hands. 

"Hello?" He greeted the unknown number.

"Hey Cap, how's tricks?" A familiar Irish lilt replied, and James couldn't stop the surprised laugh that followed. 

"Sean McGee? How the hell are you, man?" 

"Oh, alright. And yourself?" he returned.

"Not so good, but I plan on lying at my press conference," James retorted, deadpan, which made his friend laugh. "You in town? This looked like a local number."

"Yeah, actually I am! My da's lost his mind, and decided to send me back here to help set up housing arrangements for him and the rest. Got it in his head that in order to be truly successful, he needs a home in America too." Hook hummed sympathetically; Edward often came up with new ways to prove how successful he was. Two months ago it was his goal to open a museum for sharks, and have a huge pickled one in a tank as soon as you'd walk into the building. Thankfully, Molly had talked him into just donating to a shark foundation instead. 

"So you'll be in town for a while, then?" James asked, returning to his room and picking up a few articles of clothing. Smee had always had a habit of tidying James' room when he used to come over, even when they were just sitting there chatting. Subconsciously, Hook felt as though his room needed to be cleaned up with Smee on the line.

"Until further notice, aye. What're you up to tonight?" Smee asked, and James could hear him sipping something.

"Gwen's having some big party tonight. Attendance is mandatory," he sighed, wishing they were back in Sean McGee's hometown instead of his. "Want to come?" James asked, hoping that his friend's question was because he was lacking something to do tonight.

"For sure. Text me the info at this number. Christ, it'll be good to see you, Cap."


	6. Chapter Six

At a quarter past eight, the party had been in full swing for an hour, and Ronnie assured Queenie that no one would notice them sneaking in by now. The two had each had two nips of vodka, and Queenie finally felt a little calmer about the whole shindig. _It might even be fun_, she thought to herself, smiling as Ronnie slinked her arm through Queenie's. The girls slipped through the front door with a large group of fashionably late guests, Veronica grinning and laughing with the others, playing like she belonged there. They separated from the guests and dissolved into the room.

Veronica headed straight for the dance floor, but Queenie held fast to her arm. 

"What's wrong, babes? Need a drink first?" She asked above the noise.

"I think so, yeah. And I'm starving," she added, eyeing the chocolate fountain sat in the middle of a table that also had an assortment of fruits on dowels for dipping.

"You fondue, I'll get the drinks, and we'll meet over at Rory's table," Veronica planned, pointing, and then waving at a white table clothed table, where the familiar blonde sat. Queenie nodded, although she didn't like the part of the plan where they would be separated. 

After Veronica let go of her arm, Queenie made her way to the chocolate fondue station, and began dipping fruits and cakes before plating them. The buzz of the party going on behind her surprisingly seemed to calm her. Her favorite type of social events were ones she could go unnoticed, to just blend into the crowd. Even going out to restaurants with friends or family, she preferred the seat that faced a wall with the rest of the customers to her back. As she turned around, however, she saw a pair of eyes on her that she had hoped to avoid.

James Hook stood across the room, leaning against a square pillar, playing with a toothpick in his mouth. Queenie froze, unable to move at all, as though his gaze held some sort of power over her. It wasn't until he chucked his toothpick into a bin and started towards her, that the trance was broken, and she maneuvered around a stout, violet clad woman, and made a beeline to Veronica and Aurora. She set the plate down onto the tablecloth with a muffled clatter, and gripped the back of an empty chair.

"Ah, here she is--oh my god, are you okay??" Veronica went from cheerful to concerned at the pale color on her friend's face. 

"I thought I could do it but--" Queen froze at the hand on the small of her back.

"Hello, Queenie," James' voice lilted gently over the crowd. "Aurora, Veronica," he nodded at the others in turn after a moment. 

Rory sucked her teeth before slinging an elbow over the back of her chair.

"What do you want, Jimmy?" She asked, a tone that held more cruelty than perhaps intended. 

He gave a polite smile, hand still on the back of the doe-like girl.

"I was going to ask Queenie for a dance," he stated calmly, as though nothing had happened between the two. 

The silent blonde suddenly came to, straightening her back, and spinning around to face him. Her expression was less than unfriendly, and faltered only for a moment at their closeness. He smiled curiously down at her, and she blushed furiously.

"Why don't you dance with her your girlfriend?" She asked in an even, quiet voice.

James raised his brows and clasped his hands in front of him.

"She doesn't feel like dancing," he explained, and waved over her shoulder at Gwen, who looked quite preoccupied with a couple of young men at the head table. Queenie glanced back at her in time to see her give a general, uninterested wave in their direction. "And besides, I want to dance with _you_," Hook added, holding up a hand.

Queenie chanced a look at Rory and Ronnie, who were being absolutely no help. Aurora adjusted her water glass on the table, pretending not to listen, and Ronnie helped herself to chocolate covered strawberry to conveniently be unable to speak up.

"Come on, what've you got to lose?" He asked, and she narrowed her eyes at him. After a moment's thought, she turned and grabbed an appletini from in front of Ronnie, downed it, and took his hand, slamming the empty cup back on the table. 

With a grin that unfuriatingly made Queenie weak in the knee department, James led her to the dance floor. She questioned her choice all the way there, but continued on anyway; she liked the way his hand fit around hers. James pulled her into his chest and placed one hand on her lower back, and the other held hers up near his chest. Queen tensed up, but allowed it, and rested her free hand on his shoulder with a sigh. After a minute of silence, James cleared his throat. 

"Don't hate me," he murmured, and she scoffed.

"I don't hate you," she retorted, looking around the room to avoid his gaze.

"You dislike me though. You don't approve," he nodded towards Gwen, who was now seated on one of the guy's laps, flirting shamelessly. Queenie clenched her jaw at the sight and the presumption. 

"I don't dislike you, and I don't disapprove. In fact, I don't think about you, or what you do at all," she replied curtly.

"Ouch," James chuckled at the blow, shaking his head. He hadn't expected her to be so harsh, but he knew he deserved it. "Well, _I_ think about _you_," he added in a quiet voice, bringing his lips very close to her ear. "_All the time_," he whispered, causing her to bloom pink.

"Well, don't," she stated, stopping abruptly and pulling her hands away.

"Okay, okay," James grinned, holding his palms up in surrender. "Listen, let's just dance. For old time's sake," he suggested, and she crossed her arms.

"And why should I dance with you? I shouldn't even have said yes in the first place. I shouldn't even be _here_, in the first place," she tutted, the vodka causing her to speak up for herself. Queenie had never been so outspoken before. 

"Because I'm a good dancer?" He tried, which made her laugh despite herself, and shake her head.

"Oh right, you're a regular Fred Astaire," she teased, before letting him take her in his arms again. They danced a gentle waltz, and her head began to feel a little heavy. Resting her forehead against his chest, she sighed. "Why'd you do it?"

**

James Hook stalked over to the open bar and ordered a Jack and Coke, jingling his keys in his pocket. He'd worn this stupid red shirt with a black tie like Gwen had asked, and she turns up in in a periwinkle starlight dress, and she had the gall to chew him out in front of her parents. Luckily, she distracted herself with something else that had gone wrong, leaving him to slip out of the back room. He got a text from Smee, and told him to meet him at the bar. 

After the bartender set his drink in front of James, he dropped a twenty into the tip jar and took a sip. Before he could finish scanning the room, someone clamped a hand on his shoulder. 

"Captain, my captain!" The familiar song of his old Irish chum lilted, and James cupped at his mouth to sputter out. He turned to Smee and grinned, raising an arm and giving him a hug. 

"There ya are!" James laughed, in better sorts already. "Glad you found the place alright." Sean nodded, and pointed at James' drink to indicate to the bartender what he wanted. 

"Yeah, so many _Quiller Money Management_ facilities with long lines down the street tonight. Glad I picked the right one," Smee joked, and Hook chuckled, bringing his drink to his lips again. "How's it going?"

"Too early to tell, really," James sighed, leaning against the bar. "Gwen's peeved I wore the shirt she told me to, 'cause now we don't match," he rolled his eyes, as if to say _heavens forbid!_, and huffed another sigh.

"Ah, it's not that bad. I'm sure you match with _someone _here," Smee tried to make light of the situation, and they both began scanning the room. "See, there's a perfect match for ya right over there," Smee pointed with his drink in hand, before chuckling and taking a sip. James laughed, and curiosity caused his eyes to follow Sean's direction. He nearly choked on his drink.

"What's she doing here?" He mumbled, clearing his throat. 

"You know that blonde beauty?" Smee asked, arching a brow.

"We almost had a date once," he replied, two different types of guilt filling his mind. 

"What, recently? James, you cad," Smee chuckled, before a third voice joined the mix. 

"You mean cod." James tensed up immediately, the boy's voice instantly grating his nerves. "Always thought there was something fishy about you, Codfish." This was followed by snorting laughter. 

"Peter," James greeted Pan without turning around right away.

"Aw, come one, don't be such a sourpuss," the exceedingly annoying teenager snickered. James finally turned around, giving him a look that implied he was not in the mood to be picked at. Peter had three other kids around him, whom all looked to be on the verge of laughing. 

"Don't you have someone else to irritate?" Hook asked in mild disgust.

"Of course, but I chose you tonight, isn't that fun?" Peter retorted, which encouraged the other boys to laugh.

"The only thing fun about you, would be if--" he started, about to say something far too harsh to a teenager, but Smee patted his shoulder. 

"Hey Cap, why don't you figure out where I'm sitting, and I'll have a chat with Pete. Lots to catch up on," he suggested, and moved to take on the burden of keeping Peter entertained and out of Hook's hair. 

Hook carried his drink over to a pillar and leaned against it, pulling a tooth pick of cheese from a passing platter. After he finished chewing, he downed his drink and set the glass on an empty tray being carried past. He picked at his teeth a moment with the toothpick, watching Queenie as she put a plate together. When she turned and saw him, his breath hitched in his chest for a moment. _Aw, fuck it._

**

"Why'd you do it?" Her voice pierced through the friendly atmosphere he'd been trying to wrap around the conversation. What could he say to that? What comfort could he possibly give her with the truth.

"I'm sorry," he finally breathed, squeezing her hand. "It's complicated." He added, a phrase he knew was a flimsy excuse. "I didn't mean to--" 

"Mind if I cut in?"

James and Queenie both separated with a start, and they turned to see Gwen smiling up at them. The smile looked more for show to Hook, as he could see something swirling behind her eyes.

"Of course," Queenie gave a weak smile, stepping aside. "Enjoy," she gave a little wave and ducked out.

Wendy took her place, but danced a little further away from him than Queenie had been.

"Are you _trying _to embarrass me?" Gwen hissed through gritted teeth, a forced smile on her lips. 

"I thought that's what you wanted. But you seemed perfectly capable of doing that yourself, _dear_," James replied, referring to the men she'd been entertaining at the head table. He winced as her nails dug into his hand. 

"You idiot, those are the sons of daddy's boss. I'm supposed to be making a good impression," she explained, loosening her grip. James rolled his eyes, and shook his head. 

"Oh, I'm sure you made a good impression. Tell me, did you give one of them a hard on? Wriggling around on his lap like that, he must be stiff as a board."

"James, don't be so bloody horrible," she pleaded, trying to keep a smile on her face. 

"I'm just asking a question, jeez," he sighed, pulling her closer to him. "While I'm asking questions, tell me, does dear old daddy want you to make a good impression on me, too?" Jimmy asked, pressing his groin into the blue ruffles of her dress. His grip on her grew tighter, his forearm completely around her back. "Maybe he'll feel more secure if Edward Teach's heir takes you right here on the dance floor, eh?" he suggested in a vile tone, giving her ass a painful squeeze. 

"James, stop!" Gwen squeaked, and he turned to see a photographer weaving through the crowd towards them. "Be reasonable, we'll discuss this later," she told him, cheeks pink in embarrassment. 

"Let's give them something to photograph," he suggested, loosening his grip ever so slightly, bringing one hand behind her neck, and dipping her back, before crashing his lips against hers. He heard her whimper, and the shutter sound click from the camera. 

"Lovely, lovely!" The photographer cheered, looking at the image he'd captured, before wandering away to find another couple of victims to shoot.

Hook let go of Gwen and pulled his vest down to straighten it out, and Gwendolyn patted at her bottom lip. The gloss she'd so carefully applied earlier was gone now, and he could see a pinprick of blood where his tooth had connected with her lip.

"You need some air," Wendy stated, staring at him evenly.

"I need a _drink_," he muttered, and stalked off, leaving her in the middle of the dance floor.


	7. Chapter 7

The air outside was brisk, and Hook hugged his jacket tighter around him. He set his drink down on the outdoor table on the balcony. A few smokers were out with him chatting about the party, but when they returned to the warmth indoors, James was alone. He sighed, feeling a little bad for manhandling Gwen on the dance floor.

Lighting up a cigarette, James sighed, smoke billowing out of his nostrils like a dragon. Part of him just wanted to go home, but he knew his step dad would be making an appearance later. If there was ever someone you didn't want to be on the bad side of, it was Edward Teach. The man was already annoyed with James for asking him to attend. 

The balcony door slid open and closed, and someone came out alone. Hook didn't bother looking up, figuring that if it was anyone worth knowing, they were already mad at him. He waited for the scrape of a lighter or a swipe of a match, and when nothing sounded off, he figured it was just someone getting air. Until _she_ spoke.

"You have any more of those?" Queenie's voice gently asked.

James turned around quickly, pulling his cigarette from his lips and staring at her. She looked so beautiful in the strappy, deep red dress that fell right above her knees. Her hair whipped around in her face as the wind picked up, and she hugged her arms around herself. 

Propping the cig between his lips, Hook shrugged off his jacket. "Din't know you smoked," he commented, holding the jacket out to her.

"I don't, but I thought I might take it up," Queen half joked, deadpanned as she stared at the jacket. 

"Put it on," he instructed, taking a drag. "Smokes are in the pocket," he added, and she took one out. Propping the cigarette between slightly parted lips, she tried to light it, stopping to let the sleeves of his jacket drop a little. The wind blew the flame out time and time again, until James crossed to her and cupped his hands around it to help.

The closeness caused James' breath to catch in his throat, and they both choked on the smoke a bit.

"Oh no," Queenie coughed, holding the smoke stick away from her. "I knew it'd be awful," she cough-laughed, smoke sputtering out of her nose. 

"Should've told you no," James chuckled in retrospect. "Terrible habit, but sometimes you need to try to know," he added, taking another drag. Queenie followed his lead, and took another as well, before coughing again, and holding it out to him. 

"Sorry," she laughed as he took it in his free hand. 

"No, don't be," he answered, and propped both between his lips and puffed, causing them both to laugh. 

A strange silence followed, and after a few moments he stubbed both cigarettes into an ash tray. 

"Listen," he started gently, and then sighed. "I fucked up. I'm sorry," James finally managed. "I was trying to reach her to break things off, and she just showed up." He couldn't help but notice her somber expression.

"No, I get it. You were with her a long time. You can't just shut that off like a tap," the blonde stated in a much too understanding manner. 

James watched her sadly; he knew he didn't deserve her kindness. He deserved a slap across the face that no one seemed to want to deliver. 

"No, that well was dryer than the Sahara."

"So, it's rusted shut. Locked in place," she replied quickly, a compassionate smile on her lips.

"You should hate me," Hook sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. 

"Why? What would be the point?" Queenie asked rhetorically. He thought he detected a hint of anger in her eyes, despite her words.

"It'd help me not to feel so shitty, I guess," he replied after a moment, drawing closer to her. "I don't know what it is about you, but..." he trailed off, reaching out to her waist. "I want you," he murmured, fingers connecting with the soft fabric of her dress.

"Why?" She breathed, turning her cheek to him as he leaned in. "I'm nothing special," Queenie added, tensing under his touch.

"Nothing sp-Queenie," James stammered, words catching in his throat, before he turned her face to his, thumb caressing her cheek. "You've sparked something in me that I thought was long dead." The time for dancing around his feelings was done. The time for words was done. He leaned down and kissed her mouth, pulling her closed against him. 

Queenie's hands fell gently against his chest, before her fingers gripped at his shirt. They were both melting into one another, and he held her firmly against him. It was as though every sense in his body had been lit ablaze; it was as though his whole life had been pointing to her via large, neon arrow signs; in short, it was perfect. 

And then every light in the building went out, encompassing the pair in darkness. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **slight nsfw near the end**

It took Queenie a moment to even realize they stood in pitch darkness. Her heart was pounding so hard, she felt as though she might faint. This was the last thing she expected to happen after Aurora had told her to go talk to James. The frightened screams from inside is what caused the two to separate, an irrational fear that someone had seen them kiss and were appalled. 

James backed up and looked over the cement, balcony railing, and then up at the other floors. 

"The whole building's out," he tutted, and Queenie joined his side to look too. 

"Power outage?" She suggested, before they both instinctively turned to look out over the city. Lights for as far as the eye could see dappled the buildings before them. "Must be a short somewhere," she stated, rubbing her arms up. 

"We should go in," James decided, and picked up his glass from the table, before leading her towards the door. They paused at the glass, and waited for it to open for a minute. "Ah," he grunted, before laughing. "Electric doors," he added, and they both laughed at this, albeit Queenie's was a little nervous.

James handed his drink to her and tried to pry the doors apart, but something was holding them shut. He pulled until his knuckles went white, before letting go in defeat. 

"Shit!" he grunted, kicking the door, which caused Queenie to flinch. "I guess there must be some sort of automatic lock," he muttered, circling back to the table where his drink sat once more. 

"The power should come back soon though, right? Don't most buildings like this have back up generators?" Queenie asked in a small, unconfident voice. James turned to her, hands on his hips, and nodded. She adjusted her posture, trying not to appear as concerned as she really was. 

"Yeah, must do. It'll be okay," he said, but Queenie had a suspicion that he didn't believe it. "You warm enough?" He asked, which made her smile. 

"Yes, I'm okay," she lied, but a shiver gave her away. 

"Let's get out of the wind," Hook suggested, reaching out to take her hand. He led her to a small alcove away from the door, and sat down on the floor, patting the space beside him. James rubbed his hands together to get some warmth into them, and Queenie joined him. After a moment, she felt him wrap his arm around her shoulders, and hug her into his side.

Queenie liked being inside his jacket, and brought the sleeves up to her mouth to blow onto her numbing finger tips. It was nicer away from the wind, and nicer still being so close to James. He smelled of aftershave, cigarettes, and cold wind. 

"I'm going to end things with Gwen," James said suddenly, and she looked up at him. He was staring straight ahead, and her eyes traveled along his jawline, watching his breath plume out in front of him. They were in near darkness, but her eyes were beginning to adjust with the faint city lights. 

"Are you?" Queenie asked, rightfully skeptical. She said it softly, not wanting him to think she was being judgmental of him. 

"Yes. Tomorrow. It'd be wrong to do it now, with her party disaster," he replied, to which she sat upright a bit. Queenie nodded, and pulled her knees to her chest. She knew he was being kind to Gwendolyn, but it annoyed her. "Are you mad?" He asked, to which she shook her head a bit too quickly. "What's on your mind?"

Queenie chuckled despite herself, not wanting to tell him what was _really_ on her mind. There was too much in there at once; hell, she was still processing their kiss. "Just wondering what's going on in yours," she finally spoke, looking up to catch his gaze. 

"Mind?" James laughed.

"Yes, yours. What are _you_ thinking about?" She put the question to him, raising a brow.

"You don't want to know, Miss Morgan," he replied with a mischievous grin. 

"Oh no? And why's that?"

"You'd blush. And have less of an opinion of me." At this response, she laughed and turned a slight shade of pink. Glad of the darkness that painted their features in light and dark blues, she pressed him.

"Go on, then. Make me blush," she pushed, nudging his shoulder with hers. Hook cocked a brow, and turned to her. Queenie turned as well, so that their knees were pressed against each other. 

"I'm wondering how long we've got alone on this dark roof. I'm wondering just how far you'd let me go. I'm thinking about what you taste like, and what your skin feels like under that dress. I want to ask if you've ever been with someone, and I want to fuck you so hard, that if you have been with someone before, you won't even remember their name. I want to make you forget what planet you're on. Christ, I want you so bad."

The flirty grin she'd been wearing a moment ago, and her lips were parted in shock. If he could see the color on her cheeks, he'd be quite pleased with himself. The corner of her mouth turned up, and she raised her eyebrows at him. 

James leaned in and kissed her again, this time, in a heated passion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and drank him in, allowing him to adjust and press her down onto her back. He planted hot, wet kisses against her neck, and his hand slid down the front of her dress. In a moment, his hand was between her legs under the red fabric, and Queenie's body arched against his cold hand, before curving into his touch. James kissed her mouth again, his fingers slipping under her knickers. Queenie bucked against his movements, wanting nothing more than to take him right then. _This _was _definitely _not what she could have ever dreamed would happen when she'd come to talk to him. And she was already kicking herself for what she was about to do. Queenie broke away from his kiss as she felt his groin firm against her thigh. 

"I need you right now," he breathed heavily into her ear. She wanted so badly to stay with him in this place. He rubbed her harder, and it took everything in her willpower to move her legs away from his touch, closing her knees together tightly as she sat up. 

"Sh-shame you're not single," she breathed shakily, turning her body away from him in fear that she'd lose her nerve. 

James let out a defeated laugh, followed by a groan, pressing a kiss against her temple. 

"That's just cruel," he laughed, sitting up gingerly, pressing the back of his head against the cement wall. He turned to face her, the pair of them looking as though they might shatter and combust. Hook propped a knee up, resting his arm on it, the other leg spread out to ease the tension in his lap. "Tomorrow," he stated, eyes fixed on her.

"T-tomorrow," Queenie closed her eyes, and leaned her head back against the wall. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **slight nsfw at the end of this chapter**

There was a palpable change in the air when Gwen asked James how he was, but she was either denying its existence, or was completely ignorant of it. 

"Yeah, I'm okay. You?" he asked, opening his menu and scanning over the appetizers. 

"I'm alright. I can't believe what happened at the party last night." For a moment, he thought she was referring to their argument on the dance floor, but clearly she'd tucked that away. "I was _so_ embarrassed. Leave it to a group of teenagers to cut the power lines and ruin a great night," she scoffed, looking at her menu. 

"Yeah, I know. They ever find them?" Hook asked, scratching at his scruff. He knew that she disliked the feel of a newly growing beard, and decided to hold off shaving it until after this whole dinner. 

"No, but they think it was a teenager because the video footage before the power cut showed some masked kids heading down to the electric room." Gwen stated, glancing over the fruity drinks. "I want a mojito, what are you thinking?" She asked. He glanced up, unable to not stare at her pointed nose. 

"Whiskey, neat," he stated, and looked back to his menu when she glanced up.

"I think we should break up," she said evenly, and when his eyes lifted back up, she was scanning the menu again.

"What did you say?" he asked, trying not to sound too relieved too early. She looked up at him, an amused expression on her face. She reached out and touched his hand gently.

"I'm kidding, you big idiot," she tittered, and his shoulders dropped. _So close. So close to not have to hurt her._ "Just teasing," she added, looking back down. "Do you know if the veal is good here?" She asked. James couldn't stop staring at her, and wondered what was stopping him from just doing it. "I heard it's good."

"I agree," he replied quickly, but he wasn't talking about the beef. "We're not right for each other, are we?" He added, so she'd know to what he was referring. He watched as she tensed up ever so slightly, gripping her menu a little tighter. There was a pregnant pause before she spoke again, still not meeting his eyes.

"Niles said he's never tasted juicier veal. I think I'm going with that. What do you want?" she chattered, ignoring his question.

"Gwen," he started, but she interrupted, setting her pamphlet down and looking up at him.

"I heard their garlic mashed potatoes are divine. Like being on a cloud of garlic. I might try that too."

"Gwendolyn," James spoke firmly, and she flinched.

"Why?" She asked, reaching out and gripping his wrist. "I thought we were doing so well," she said, voice cracking as her eyes filled with tears. 

"'Well'? How can you even say that? We argue more than we talk. We go to bed when things get uncomfortable. That's not a relationship, Gwen." He sighed, pulling out a handkerchief when he saw a tear drop down her cheek. "Come on, why don't we call it now. Before--"

"Before _what_, exactly?!" She chirped, snatching the handkerchief out of his hand. "Before we fuck each other?" Her raised voice drew glances from diners and waiters alike. "Or were you just waiting until _after_ you got in my pants? Take a little longer than your other dolls, Jim?" She asked angrily, and he knew she was right; he'd been an absolute dickhead about it. "Well, you got what you wanted now, so sure, why not?" The brunette asked rhetorically, throwing her hands up into the air as she stood up, chair scraping as she went. She tossed the cloth angrily at him and spun on heel to storm out. 

"Wendy--" he started, catching the kerchief and following her as she began stomping off. 

"No, James! You stay here. And just go--" she paused at the coat check, slamming her number down on the counter. "It's that girl, isn't it?" She asked, scoffing as realization washed over her. "The one from the party you were all chummy with on the dance floor," she gave a piteous laugh. "Yeah, just go and fuck that _teenager_. See what other kind of trouble you can get yourself into!" She shouted. 

A silence fell over the restaurant, and a spoon slipped and clattered onto a plate. The coat clerk brought her shawl, and as she reached to take it, James grabbed her arm. 

"She's NOT a teenager, you miserable cow," he snapped, and a murmur that sounded like relief went through the place. "You self-centered, awful girl," he growled, gripping her tighter. "As if you've got anything to offer that shows and ounce of love for me. I tried to make this work, and you're the same as we were in school."

"Let go of me, you dick," she grunted, trying to pull away from him. His grasp was firm, and he pulled her into him, ignoring her wincing. 

"We're finished," he muttered, throwing her arm out of his hand, and he stormed out of the restaurant, rolling his eyes as he heard some waitress asking her if she was hurt. 

**

Rain pattered outside of Queenie's window as she sat at her desk, working on a calculus problem. She had been waiting for a text from James for over an hour. He was taking Gwen to dinner, and told her that he'd text when things were finished. 

Queenie had pulled on a warm cardigan over her school uniform that she hadn't felt like changing out of yet. He had said he'd let her know when he was on his way, so she figured she had time to get her homework done before she had to get ready. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart raced, but every time, it was either Rory or Ronnie in their group chat, planning their sleepover next weekend. 

Seraphina had headed out about a half an hour ago to stay with Cat's kids while she and her husband, Eddie, went out for a date. Their mom was working the night shift at the hospital, and Lucy and Reagan, her younger sisters were out at a sleepover. She mused about texting this all to James, hoping to speed things up at the prospect of them having the house to themselves, but she refrained. Everything in its own time. She crossed her legs tight under her desk as her mind wandered to him, and what he'd done to her last night. She knew waiting was the right thing, but Queenie couldn't help replaying everything over and over in her mind. His fervent movements; the darkness that enclosed them; the fact that they could've been discovered at any moment, and his lack of caring if they had. She squeezed her legs tighter together, and closed her eyes, dropping her pencil on her desk, hand moving to her lap.

_Clack._

Eyes springing open, Queenie sat bolt upright. It had been so loud of an interruption, her mind flew to the most unlikely reason, that the house was cracking apart. 

_Clack._

Heart racing, she looked to the window, where the sound was undoubtedly coming from. There was a raucous, metallic scraping from outside now, and she knew someone was pulling the fire escape ladder down. 

_This is it._ She thought to herself, rising slowly and walking to the window. _This is how I die. _She clicked the lock on her window, and closed the sheer curtains, backing away to the lightswitch. She flipped it off, all the while watching the curtains blowing in the fan air. A shadow appeared on the ledge outside her window now, and she squeaked, grabbing the closest thing to her, which was a very useless, plastic clotheshanger. The shadow rapped on the window, and she closed her eyes tight, back against her bedroom door. 

"Queenie?" A familiar voice called out, and she let out an exasperated sigh. "Is this Queenie Morgan's room?" The voice called again, and Queen crossed the room and threw open the curatins. 

James grinned up at her, crouching on the fire escape. She crossed her arms, hanger tucked under them. He waved, and she shook her head, smiling and feeling a little foolish. 

"You going to let me in?" He asked, the glass only slightly muffling his words. Queenie unlocked and pushed it up.

"You should've called, I thought you were a murderer," she complained with a laugh. He climbed through the window, and pulled his phone out of his pocket, displaying a black screen.

"Phone died," he explained, pocketing it again, and looked down at her with a childish look of delight on his face. "How are you?" He asked, and she shook her head again, chuckling.

"Fine, now that I'm not about to be brutally killed," she replied, moving to turn her desk lamp on, which cast a dull yellow light on them. "You're not here to kill me, right?" She joked. 

"Ah, I was thinking about it, but I left my murder kit at home." He tutted, and she sighed and nodded. 

"Next time, then," she commented, making him laugh. There was a pause in conversation, and he looked around her room. She suddenly felt a little self conscious about her posters; the disorganized bookcase that also served as a catchall; her hamper that needed attending to; the outfits she'd tried on and discarded on the floor.

"Sorry," she blushed, pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "It's not usually this messy," she lied, and kicked a crumpled piece of paper towards the bin by her desk. 

"Don't be, it's not half as bad as mine," he chuckled and wandered over to one of her Arctic Monkeys' poster, and peered at it. This is signed?" he asked, pointing at the signatures. "Awesome," he nodded in approval.

"Yeah, I was actually at their first gig," she chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. "I was visiting my uncle in Sheffield, and he was really excited about them. Said they'd make it big, handed me a napkin, and made me ask for their signatures." Hook stared at her with his mouth open. 

"What? That's crazy! That was...what? Ten years ago?" He asked, shaking his head and looking at it again. 

"Well, eight. I was only ten, and super embarrassed about it," she laughed.

"I bet," James shook his head, an amused and impressed look on his face, which then contorted to confusion. "But this isn't a napkin. Where'd you get this?" He asked, turning back to her.

"Alex sent that to me last summer. He and my uncle are close," she explained, which nearly floored James. "He's my cousin's godfather," she added, enjoying telling him all of this. It wasn't something she talked about with many people; after she told Ronnie, it was all she would talk about for a month. _Think you could get me his phone number? How tall is he? What does he smell like?_ She figured James wouldn't ask such asinine questions. 

"That's awesome," he finally said, laughing at this new information. He looked to another signed poster in a frame; it looked quite old, with signatures from all four Beatles. "Let me guess," he pointed, looking over his shoulder. "Paul McCartney's your grandfather?" Queenie laughed out loud at this, shaking her head. 

"Nah, Ringo is. Had tea with him last week," she quipped. "This belonged to my granddad, actually. And it's not staying in my room forever, it's on loan from my aunt while she's moving. Didn't deserve cold, dark storage," she grinned, still pleased that her aunt chose _her_ to keep it safe.

"Nice," James nodded, looking around at her mess of other memorabilia and decorations.

"So," Queenie started, setting the hanger onto her desk. "How'd dinner go?"

**

At her question, James' shoulders dropped. He'd spent the last hour wandering the city rehashing it all with Smee on the phone. He didn't want to think about it anymore. All he wanted to do was stay in this moment, getting to know Queenie better. _Best to just get it out._

"As well as could be expected. Didn't even order drinks before it happened. But let's not talk about it," he said, waving his hand through the air as though trying to get rid of a bad smell. "Is your house always this quiet?" He asked. James couldn't quite read Queenie's expression; it looked bittersweet, as though, even while they both obviously wanted each other, she felt bad for him breaking up with his girlfriend.

"We don't have to talk about it, but if you _did_ want to, you know, we could," she offered softly.

"We can save that for our next date," James chuckled, crossing to her and cupping her cheek with one hand. "You look gorgeous," he complimented her, having to remind himself that she was eighteen. The uniform turned him on in ways he wished it didn't. The blonde leaned into his hand and chuckled.

"You were supposed to text me, I look like a mess," she said shaking her head as she pulled away from him. "Go sit down, I'll be right back." He wanted to tell her that he thought she looked great as she was, but she left too quickly, and so he sat down at her desk. James tapped a silly looking pen in a cup of writing utensils, and then turned her homework towards him. Picking up a pencil, he worked on one that looked as though she had erased her work on a few times. After solving it, he glanced around the room, and got a small itch to tidy it up. He stopped himself when he realized he was reminding himself of Smee.

When Queenie returned, Hook clenched his jaw, breath hitching as he took her in. Her hair hung down in waves over her shoulders, and she was no wearing a pastel mauve tank top, with matching shorts. The fabric shimmered as she walked, and she moved right in front of him. Whatever perfume she had put on was unnerving James, and he reached out, wrapping his hands around her waist.

"Wow," was all he breathed, unable to get out a joke or quip to loosen the tension. She looked down at him through heavy lids, resting her hands on his shoulder. James couldn't believe that he was here, holding her like this. A year ago, this was just a fantasy, something so out of reach, like trying to catch vapor in the air. Hook stood up suddenly, cupping her face in both hands, and turning her face to him.

"It's unreal how beautiful you are," he commented, running his thumb against her cheek. Without a second thought, his mouth connected with hers, and they were wrapped together tighter than vines on an old house. They quickly moved to the bed and laid down, not breaking for breath as they kissed with desperate urgency. There were few times in Hook's life that he felt more alive than he did as he undressed her, and peppered her with kisses.

The two of them began to move as one person, moving into and around one another. It was hard to tell where she ended and he began, and all Queenie knew was that it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever experienced. And then suddenly they were both so close to their tipping point, she wanted to stop and just lay there, soaking in every ounce of him. With one more movement, they both came crashing down, sounds of ecstasy and escaping their lips, and they lay there in a damp pile, huffing in unison.


	10. Chapter 10

The morning sunshine filtered through the restaurant curtains, showering Queenie, Aurora, and Veronica in a soft light. Queenie couldn't help feeling a little out of place, and by the look on Rory's face, she didn't look too comfortable either. They let Ronnie pick the place, as she'd offered to buy them brunch; Queen hadn't expected a tearoom at the Wynn Hotel. Ronnie wore a light blue dress that was covered in flowers, and Rory was wearing black jeans and a lacy top, while Queenie had opted for a nice sweater, tights, and jean shorts. If she had known _where_ they were going to go, she might have gone with a dress. Still, there was no helping it now, and their waiter seemed nice enough about it. 

After the server took their order and brought the tea out, Queenie shared what happened the night before.

"You WHAT?" Ronnie choked, before lowering her voice and patting the table. "Oh my god, tell me all about it," she squeaked, tapping Queenie's arm.

Morgan turned all manner of pink and laughed, stirring sugar into her tea. She wasn't going to drink it, as she didn't care for it, but it gave her something to do with her hands.

Leaving out the crude details, she told them everything; from what happened on the balcony, to him scaring her to death on the fire escape, to how he took her in his arms. The whole time, Ronnie was on the edge of her seat, grinning widely, oohing and ahhing and laughing at the right bits. Aurora, on the other hand, only smiled, and looked like she wanted to say something the whole time. When Queenie finished the story, she rubbed her arm and glanced over at Rory, giving a shy smile. She suddenly felt a little more out of place, the way Ror was looking at her.

"You okay, Rory? You look like you've got gas," Ronnie chimed in, causing both blondes to chuckle. 

"I'm fine, yeah. Just..." she paused, glancing over Queenie's shoulder to make sure the waiter wasn't coming back yet. "Were you safe about it?" She asked in a quiet voice.

"Safe? Oh yeah, I mean no one was home, and the bed was cleared off. No injuries," she chuckled, and both Rory and Ron exchanged glances. "What?"

"Did he dress for the occasion?" Rory pressed, and at Queenie's confused frown, she sighed. "Did he wear a condom?"

The color drained from Queen's face as she realized what she had forgotten last night. Things had happened so quickly, and she couldn't remember or not if he had wrapped it. It was her first time, and all she'd known was that she wanted him. 

"I-I-" the girls leaned forward, on the edges of their chair. "I don't remember." She murmured, looking away. Suddenly feeling like a big moron, Queenie fidgeted with her tea spoon, trying to stop her chin from quivering.

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Rory said, reaching to place a hand atop hers. "We can go right to a drugstore when we're done, and get the morning after pill. Just to be safe." Queenie felt a little comforted, but still felt uneasy. _How could I forget about condoms? _The whole brunch, though lovely, was tainted for Queenie, with her inner monologue interjecting throughout. All she could think about was getting things set straight.

After they finished, and Ronnie settled the bill, the girls left; Queenie felt safe with her friends on either side, their arms looped through hers. They slipped into the corner drugstore where Rory insisted on buying the pill for her. The blonde was very grateful, as she didn't think she could bear to do it herself. 

"You'll take it after we get back to my apartment," Aurora told her, the bell over the door jingling as they walked out with their purchase. "You guys can stay over if you want," she suggested with a grin.

"Ooh yes, I love slumber parties!" Ronnie enthused. "We can do masks and have cosmos!" She suggested, bouncing on her toes.

"That actually sounds great," Queenie grinned. "I don't want to do it alone," she sighed, partly feeling like she'd be doing something wrong; if she did it at home, it'd feel like something secretive and sneaky. At least she'd have her best friends beside her.

**

Queenie clutched the hot water bottle to her abdomen and bent forward on Rory's bed. Rory had just ordered pizza, and Ronnie was removing the fourth nail polish she'd just applied in a row in search of a fitting color.

"You alright?" Rory asked, sitting carefully beside her, wrapping an arm around Queen. 

"Yeah, just feels like the worst period I've ever had," she groaned, sitting up and cupping her left breast. "They're so sore," she moaned, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry, girl. It'll pass soon," Rory tried to comfort her. "Condom next time, okay?" She added, to which Queenie nodded in agreement.

"Have either of you taken it before?" She asked, wanting to distract herself. As Rory nodded, Ronnie looked up excitedly.

"Ooh wait! Let's play Truth or Dare!" She suggested, and Queenie shrugged as the wave of pain eased up. "No, I've never taken it. Now you, Queen. Truth or Dare?"

"Truth, I guess," she stated, knowing she wouldn't be able to do anything physical for a dare. 

"Hmm, okay...besides things with James," Ronnie wriggled her brows. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"

Queenie hummed, reaching for her cosmo on the nightstand. They'd made drinks first thing after Rory had said hello to her granny. She immediately loved the woman, who looked genuinely happy to have last minute company. 

"Eh, i guess skinny dipping with my sisters last summer. We'd gone to this campground and Sera convinced us all to go. Cat, Poppy, Sera, Marina, Bella, and I snuck out of our tents at midnight. It was great," Queenie giggled, blushing a little.

"That's so fun! We should do that this summer!" Ronnie said, picking a fifth nail polish. "Where'd you go?"

"Oh, um, a place called Neverwood? Out by the shore. At sunset there was always a ton of fireflies; they looked like fairies flying about," She reminisced with a fond smile, before another wave of pain caused her to lean forward. Rory rubbed her back, tutting in sympathy for Queen.

"You," Queen grumbled, sitting back up and nodding at Rory. "Truth or Dare?" Ror sat up and smiled.

"Dare." She replied evenly. 

"I dare you to face time someone at random and ask them to bring us cookies," she said, and Ronnie laughed out loud.

"Oh god, okay," Rory chuckled, good humored, and got up to retrieve her phone. She crossed the cluttered floor and picked up her cell, swiping down her list of contacts with one drag, before slamming her thumb down on a random number. "Oooh, not a good idea," she laughed, throwing her head back and turning the screen for the girls to see.

"You have Mr. Starkey's number??" Ronnie screeched. "Why?" Ron and Queen both looked wildly curious as Rory just kept laughing. Mr. Starkey was the hot History professor that had started teaching their grade that year. 

"We had a thing last summer," she stated casually. "Sort of ghosted him when he said he wanted to get serious with me." Ronnie threw a cotton ball at Rory.

"Are you _kidding _me? Why? He's so hot! There has to be a reason. Is he bad in bed?"

"Hey, this is a _dare_, not truth!' Rory returned with a chuckle. 

"Well, he's the random lucky call," Queenie stated in turn, sharing a smirk with Ronnie. "Call him."

"You can't be serious!" Rory scoffed. "If for some reason he even answers, and agrees, you could both get in trouble. Hello, cosmos," She said, pointing at the drinks. 

"We'll ditch them before he gets her here." Queenie waved a hand at Rory. "Go on," she commanded, taking a sip. Rory groan-sighed, before tucking her hair behind her ear and hitting the face time button on his name.

Queenie could tell she had hoped it would go unanswered, as Rory visibly deflated as the ringing stopped and he picked up.

"Aurora Smith. I'd thought you'd vanished," their History teacher's English accent filled the room. Rory gave an award winning performance of an apologetic woman. "

"I know. My phone was stolen and I lost all of my contacts. I was just cleaning my room--" Ronnie giggled before clapping a hand over her mouth. "When I came across your number on the hotel card you gave me," she explained, and off camera held a hand up to Ronnie who seemed ready to explode with questions.

"Ah, so me asking you to be my girlfriend didn't scare you off?" He chuckled, clearly not buying it. Aurora feigned surprise. 

"You asking me _what_?" She asked, shock potent in her voice. Queenie was surprised and somewhat alarmed at how coolly Rory could fib. 

"You never got my messages?" He asked, tone changing to hopeful. 

"Nothing like that, no! You must think I'm awful," Rory pouted.

"N-No, I think you're great! What are you doing now?" He asked, and Queenie knew he was hooked.

"I'm just having a sleepover with my girls. They're the ones that encouraged me to all, actually," Rory explained. "We were wanting some cookies. Might do some baking, but I don't even know if we have the right ingredients for them," she let out a heavy sigh. 

"What kind do you want? I can bring you some," he replied very quickly.

"Oh! You don't have to! That's not why I was saying that! Oh my goodness," Rory buried her face in her hand, shaking her head, miming shame.

"I don't mind though, what do you want?"

After the conversation was finished, the three girls burst into laughter, and Ronnie and Queenie downed their drinks, while Rory Sipped her water. She'd told them earlier that she'd gotten sick from drinking last night and didn't want anything, and Ronnie was teasing her about it now.

"Oh, come one, don't party without me anymore, I like to driiiiink, drink," Ronnie drawled. "And I don't mean any offense, honest, but you don't drink like us, Queen," Ron added, and Queenie pouted. "That sounds mean, but I don't mean it bad, you know...ughh," Ronnie cradled her face, obviously feeling bad for how it came out, and now Queenie had to feel bad for being a little offended. 

"No, I know," she said graciously, patting Veronica's head. "No offense taken," she fibbed, in attempt to get the mood back up. She chanced a look at Rory who was wearing a little smirk. There was a sadness behind it, but Queenie couldn't figure out why it was there.

"You're the greatest," Vero sniffled, setting her glass down, and leaned forward to give Queen a hug. The blonde allowed it, giving her a little squeeze in return.

The pain in her abdomen was gone now, and she felt a warm buzz through her body from the drink. "I want another," she stated, clapping her hands on her knees. 

"Mr. Starkey is coming over soon though," Ronnie whined, but she was halfway across the room now, reaching for the cocktail cup.

"Oh, who cares if he sees? Is he going to get us in trouble and risk the 'what were you doing in a bedroom with drunk teenagers?' question?" Queenie asked rhetorically, feeling bolder with the drink inside her. "Besides, it's YOUR turn, and I dare you to have another one with me," she stated, pouring out one for each of them.

"Hey, who says I'd pick dare?" Ronnie pouted, but there was a twinkle in her eye. 

"Because you always do," Queenie grinned, handing Ron the drink. They clinked their cups together and took a sip.

"Fine. Then back to you. Truth or Dare?" Ronnie asked.

"Hmm..." Queenie hummed as she considered it. "Dare," she decided, raising hr brows at a surprised Ronnie and a bemused Rory.

"I dare you..." Ronnie looked around the room and tutted. "I _dare you_..." she repeated, obviously not expecting her to pick a dare. "Karaoke. On Rory's balcony," Ronnie sipped her cosmo, pointing with the hand that held the glass towards the window. "Whitney Houston, _I Will Always Love You_. Go." Queenie's jaw dropped while Aurora laughed, throwing her head back. 

Queenie hated singing in public almost as much as she hated using outhouses at festivals. 

"Oh Ronnie, that is just cruel, I gave you a nice dare," Queenie stated, crossing her arms and sloshing a bit of her drink onto her shirt. 

"Yeah, well that was your mistake, wasn't it?" Ronnie teased, taking another sip.

"Fine," Queenie scowled, taking a big gulp of her drink and standing to her feet. "I need the song playing and the lyrics up, or I'm not doing it--" before she could even finish the sentence, Ronnie had pulled up Spotify and Google Lyrics on her phone, and held it out to her. 

The bedroom was filled with giggles as the girls helped Queenie out onto the fire escape. The alcohol made this feel a little fun, despite how mortifying she knew it could be. The blonde tripped lightly onto the balcony and rested her hands on the railing, looking down over the orange tinted city.

"_If I should stay..._" Queenie started, voice barely over a whisper, before the music was paused suddenly. She spun around to Ronnie with a confused look.

"Okay, you're starting again, and this time louder please, so that we can hear you too, not just for tiny dogs to hear," Ronnie instructed. Rory laughed at that, and Queenie gave an exasperated sigh. After the interruption, she began again, raising a hand into the air as she sang the chorus. 

Below in the street, a few drunks stumbling past cheered as she sang, and she couldn't help but laugh. The whole thing was completely ridiculous, and the alcohol was the only thing keeping her going through with the dare, as normally, she hated drawing attention to herself. Queenie gave up after the second verse, eyes wet with tears caused by laughter, and took a bow to someone clapping below. 

"Didn't know you had live entertainment tonight, Smith!" A voice called from the street. Ronnie leaned over the balcony railing and waved down.

"Hiya, Mr. S!" She hollered down, only to be pulled back into the room by Rory, who replaced her on the railing.

"You'll have to excuse my friends," Rory called down. "I'll buzz you in," she told him, and smacked Ronnie on the arm as she passed her. "I'll kill you," she muttered as she went by, a grin on her face.

In the end, it was decided that Rory would go talk to Mr. Starkey in the front room, and avoid having him have to interact with Queenie and Ronnie at all. The blue haired girl mixed another drink, and Queenie plopped down onto Rory's bed. The worst of the medicine's side effects had passed, and she was suddenly very grateful for her friends. Growing up, it had always just been her and her sisters. But these last few months with Rory and Ronnie had been the best she'd ever had.

"I love you, Ronnie," Queenie stated suddenly from the bed. Ron gave her an amused look as she lowered her glass.

"Don't get all lezzie on me now, Morgan, I'm taken," she joked, to which Queenie just rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean, you weirdo," Queen laughed, and Ronnie sat beside her, throwing her arm around her shoulders. 

"I know," she simpered, and pressed her forehead against Queen's sidebrain. "I love you too."

The two spent the next twenty minutes rifling through Rory's closet, and CD collection, chatting away. The missing blonde finally emerged from the other room, triumphantly holding up a bag of Thin Mints.e

"Jeez, what took you so long?" Ronnie moaned from Rory's rope hammock, wearing a blue, leopard print bra on her head. "What'd you do? Blow him in the kitchen for a box of cookies?" Ron added vulgarly. Rory just smirked.

"The bathroom, actually," she threw back, not at all phased. "And I'll have you know that these are genuine Girl Scout Cookies, not the off brand crap you see in the store." She joked, and tossed them to Queenie, who set the green box on the night stand. 

"What, no Samoas?" Ronnie retorted with a smirk. "I can't believe you're shagging him, he's so fit."

"That's all past tense, Blue," Rory replied with a shake of her head.

"Does _he_ know that?" Queenie chimed in, turning a Cranberries CD round in her hands.

"Does now; told him he could meet my gran in the other room, and that the old lady'd be so happy to meet him," she replied, taking a dramatic pause. "He was all for it until I told him that granny's been hoping I'd find a good man to make an honest woman of me." The girls busted out laughing as the image of their professor high tailing it out of the apartment came to mind.

"Huh, so Mr. Starkey's a sap AND a skeezeball. Who'd'a thunk?" Ronnie giggled, draining the last of her drink.

**

Queenie was nearly asleep on Rory's bed, when her body tricked her into feeling as though she were falling. Jerking to catch her still body, she groaned quietly and turned over, trying to get comfortable again.

It was then that she heard it. Soft crying coming from the floor on the side of the bed. 

"Hey," she whispered, leaning over to peer into the darkness. "You alright?" She asked, fumbling at the nightstand for the lamp.

"Leave the light off, Queen," Rory sniffled, and Queenie pulled her hand back slowly. 

"What's wrong, Rory?" She asked after a moment. There was a long pause and a sigh, and just when Queenie was beginning to think she'd imagined the voice, it broke into sobs muffled by a pillow. "Hey, hey," she spoke softly, climbing nimbly out of bed to sit beside Rory. She put her arms around her friend, and the girl leaned into Queenie's embrace. "It's okay," she tried to comfort her, running a hand through the short tresses. 

"It's not, Queenie, it's not," Rory mumbled, wiping her tears into the pillow she was holding. 

"You can talk to me about it if you want," she offered gently.

For a moment, the only sounds were the hum of a fan, Ronnie's quiet snoring, and the muted sounds of a game show in the other room that Rory's grandmother had dozed off in front of. 

"I'm pregnant," Rory spoke so low, that Queenie wasn't sure that she heard it right.

"You're...what?"

"Don't make me say it again, please," Rory muttered miserably, disentangling herself from Queenie, and stood to her feet. She watched the shadow of her friend's thin frame walk to the window, and as it slipped out onto the fire escape. 

It was no question to Queenie, that she should stand and follow, dragging a blanket with her. 

The grate floor of the fire escape balcony was cold under her bare feet, but Queenie held back a shiver and took a seat beside Rory. They both sat with their legs dangling over the edge, leaning forward together against the railing. 

"That's really what I told Jack to get rid of him," Rory explained, and it took Queen a moment to realize she'd meant Mr. Starkey.

"Is it-" Queenie started, throat dry. "His?" To which Rory chuckled bitterly.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Well, I don't think so, anyway. I told him it wasn't. He would've stuck around if it was." Queenie nodded and watched her friend, now only slightly more visible in the yellow glow of the street lamps below. "I don't know whose kid this is," Rory added, placing a hand on her nearly flat tummy. Queen could see, now that it was a little lighter, that she did have a small bump forming. 

"Any possibles?" Queenie asked, only to show that Rory could go on if she wanted to. Rory gave a sad chuckle, looking up at the taller buildings. 

"Well, could belong to Sam Bones, the guy I L-" the word caught in her throat, like thick honey on dry bread. "He works for Jimmy. Or it could be Henry from the restaurant, lead chef; or my friend Jukes at the tattoo parlor. God, could even be that pompous prick, Blake, from open mic night," she huffed, trying to make the point that she got around. "Or it could be--oh, god," Rory crumpled in half, crying again.

Queenie draped the blanket around both of them and snuggled close.

"It can't belong to all of them," Queenie said after a moment, which made Rory laugh through the sniffles. "And it will be okay, I promise. Whatever you decide to do," she told her. "I'll b here for you, every step. Okay?" Aurora nodded, leaning into Queenie. "Do you know what you want to do?" She asked.

"I don't want a baby, Queenie. I'm not exactly the motherly type," Rory replied, drying her nose on her sleeve. "But I won't get rid of it. It's not their fault I was reckless," Rory stated, and then looked over at Queenie. "That's why it was so important to do what you did today. So you don't end up like this three months from now, with horrible decisions to make." Rory deflated in pasture a bit more, staring at Queenie who wore an expression of mixed pity, sympathy, and a touch of hurt. She'd been beating herself up all afternoon about not wearing protection with James. She could only imagine how Rory had felt. _That _had been why she'd been so adamant that she take the pill.

"Adoption, then?" Queenie suggested, but Rory shook her head.

"My grandma would want to keep it with our family."

"But that's not her decision-"

"Queen, I know I don't talk about my gran that much, but I live and would die for that woman. All that she's done for me since my parents died, and all she's put up with the last four years...if she said to keep it in the family, I'd do it."

Queenie nodded, but she couldn't entirely get behind that idea. She loved her mum and sisters, but she wouldn't be able to commit to something so big just because they wanted her to.

"What are you going to do, then?" Queenie asked, snuggling closer. There was silence for a couple moments, before Rory shook her head and looked out over the dark city.

"Guess I'm having a fuckin' kid."


End file.
